~Safe at Last~

Staring out of the window of her chamber at Sudeley Castle that night, Eleanor watched the soldiers carousing and singing around the bonfire in the courtyard below, drinks in hand as they celebrated the York victory.

She hoped that the noise wouldn't disturb Anne, who had been placed on the other side of the castle. Eleanor had promised that she would visit her the next morning but now, as she stood at the window, found that she could hardly move.

Now she was alone, the events of the day had come crashing down onto her mind like a ton of bricks. She had ordered a bath and thrown her bloodied armour and gown to one side but the dried red liquid still stuck to her hair and skin, reminding her of the man she had killed.

Over and over she remembered how she had driven her dagger through his neck and how the life had drained from his eyes. She knew she had had no other choice, she knew full well what would have happened had she not killed him. Yet the thought of taking someone's life with her own bare hands still moved around and around in her mind and memory, refusing to fade.

Hearing the door open and close, she flinched a little as heavy footsteps approached her and a pair of strong arms slid protectively around her waist.
"Are you all right?" Richard whispered, gently kissing the base of her neck "today when I tried to go to you....you stepped back out of reach and....you weren't at the celebrations, Edward is asking after you"

Eleanor sighed, leaning back against her husband.
"I killed a man today" she replied slowly "stabbed his neck with my dagger in the woods...."

"Of course" Richard said, nodding slowly "you've never killed anyone before....I'm sorry sweetheart" she turned around, looking up into his face, putting a hand to his cheek.
"I had to....I know that....this man, he tried to.... he tried to rape me. I had no other choice"

Richard's eyes widened before they filled with shock and anger, instinctively hugging Eleanor closer to him before he pulled away, taking her hands.

"Did he hurt you?" He asked hurriedly, looking over her for any sign of injury "my god he's lucky I didn't catch him....his death would have lasted longer than it did I can assure you but you did so well in defending yourself, my darling, that man does not deserve your worry or your thoughts!"

The Duchess nodded, feeling herself smile a tiny bit as her husband leant forward and gently brushed his lips against her forehead "your bath will be getting cold" he murmured "do you think washing away the blood would help a little?" He waited until she had nodded and raised his hands to the front of her shift "May I, sweetheart?" He asked and Eleanor slowly stood up onto the tips of her toes, kissing him gently in way of reply.

She continued to gaze at him trustingly as he loosened the ties of her shift and the material gathered at her feet before he gently picked her up and lowered her into the hot water that made goosebumps appear on her arms and legs.

Picking up a cloth, Richard dipped it into the tub and began to gently dab at the patches of dried blood that stuck to Eleanor's skin; wiping them away with the upmost care. Leaning back a little, she watched her husband as he worked, a crease forming between his brows as he concentrated.

He smiled when he caught her staring at him and quickly kissed her while he began to pour water onto her hair, making her squeeze her eyes shut.
"You're beautiful, Eleanor Woodville" he whispered "and braver than most, I'll wager you could match most men"

A small giggle escaped Eleanor as she opened her eyes, wiping the water away from them.
"Perhaps" she replied, drawing her knees up to her chest with a slight grin playing about her lips.
"Though I could never command the vanguard as I hear you did, the soldiers are singing your praises higher than Edward's!"

Richard chuckled and nodded, having heard the soldiers in the courtyards singing about the leadership of the 'young Duke of Gloucester'; secretly prayed that Edward hadn't heard but that George had!

"Do we have to go back to the celebrations?" She asked quietly and he shook his head, fetching the towel that lay at the end of the bath and wrapping his wife in it as she rose from the water. She hooked an arm around his neck and settled her head against his chest as he lifted her up and carried her to the fire, sitting down in front of it with her on his lap.

With another towel in hand, he gently patted her hair dry and combed it through with his fingers, every so often kissing the red curls that slowly set.

Turning around a little, Eleanor snuggled into Richard's chest and peered up at him, a feeling of safety enveloping her like a warm blanket.
"I will give you a son" she murmured "I know what I said last year when our Jacquetta died.... that you would never get any sons from me but.... but things have changed, haven't they, Richard?"

Richard nodded a little, a small smile crossing his lips while he kissed her forehead and nose to make her laugh.
"Things have changed, sweetheart" he said "but I did not know that you now wanted to give me sons!"

"Well I do!" She replied, sitting up a little "little Dukes to follow in your footsteps....it will not be as the Bad Queen said, I will not have only given you a dead daughter"

At once the smile fell from Richard's face and he cupped Eleanor's with his hands.
"Is she what has brought your sudden desire for children forth? Do not let her venom poison your thoughts, sweetheart...."

"It's not that" she assured him with a small frown "well....I will not say that her words didn't....hurt me....they did, a cutting reminder that I have failed where every woman is meant to succeed" she quickly shushed her husband when she saw he was about to protest and put a finger to his lips "but I do truly want to give you children. Not because of the words of others but because I want to. And I will"

"I do not doubt it" Richard returned in a reassuring tone, pulling her close once again "we will have a dozen babies if you wish it, Eleanor!"
Eleanor grinned at him, tilting her head up to kiss his jawline.
"And what if I truly did wish it?" She asked.
"Then you shall have it" he replied, brushing a lock of hair away from her face "....do you still have the crucifix I gave you before I went to war last year?"

Jumping up, Eleanor ran over to the pile of clothes and armour that lay in a corner and dug through them until she finally found the crucifix and lifted it high into the air for her husband to see. Rising to her feet again, she went to the coffer that had been placed at the end of their bed and threw open the lid, discarding her towel for a white nightgown that she slipped over her head.

Placing the crucifix around her neck she untied the ribbon of her cursed necklace and placed it onto the covers, momentarily wondering why no harm had been brought to George during the Tewksbury campaign before she returned to her husband and sat on his lap again.

"See" she said, holding up the pendant for Richard to observe "I've kept it with me always. Do you still have the lock of hair I gave you?" He nodded.
"I kept it with me during exile and now it resides in my gauntlet"

Eleanor grinned at him and took his hand, intertwining their fingers, before she brought it to her lips, gently kissing his knuckles.

"Do you think we have a chance?" She whispered, peering up at him "for us? A real chance?"
"Do you want there to be a chance?" He replied "Because I think that if we let ourselves try then we have a good chance at being happy....a very good chance"

"I do" the Duchess murmured "I do want there to be a chance....more than a chance" Richard smiled, kissing the top of her head as his free hand caressed the curve of her waist.
"Then we must take the chance we have been given" he said "take it and see where it leads us"

꧁꧂

Nodding to the guards that stood firmly on either side of the Dowager Princess of Wales' room, Eleanor stood firm and determined at the door. It was the room where Anne had resided since the Duchess of Gloucester had delivered her there the previous day.

Eleanor was sure that Anne would not be considered a traitor, well, not by Edward at least. The rest of the court however could not be spoken for. Almost all there were staunch Yorkists and would not be forgiving to any turncoat, no matter how young or if they had been forced as the Duchess was almost sure her young charge had been.

However, not only was Anne the daughter of a traitor but thanks to Eleanor's curse and Edward of Lancaster's death on the battlefield, she was now the widow of a traitor too which would not do her any favours in the eyes of the nobles.

The sudden thought made her stop in her tracks, hesitating as she reached for the door handle.

If she truly thought about it, couldn't Anne's present misery be traced back to her? Eleanor had been the one to all but ensure Warwick's death at Barnet and had cursed her husband to die at Tewksbury....

Yet Warwick had killed her father. And her brother, John. 'He deserved nothing less than what he got' she thought as she pushed open the door and saw the slight figure of Anne Neville standing by the window.

The girl wore a long black mourning gown that seemed almost two sizes too big on her small frame, making it appear as if she was drowning in velvet and her golden hair tumbled loose and limp down her back.

Her bitten nails were digging into the wood of the windowsill and the sides of her fingers were picked raw of skin, something which Eleanor herself was familiar with in times of stress.

As she heard footsteps behind her, Anne turned hurriedly and dropped down into a curtsy, a flash of terror sparking in her clear, blue eyes before she saw who stood before her. 'Who on earth could have made a fourteen year old so fearful?', Eleanor wondered to herself, as she gestured for Anne to rise.

In truth she found it rather strange to see a Neville curtsying to her willingly yet she could detect no trace of animosity or snobbishness in the young girl's demeanour and admitted to herself she had never been able to since she had first arrived at court in 1464.

Now seven long years ago....

"How much has changed" she whispered aloud and Anne tilted her head a little, though did not dare to reply, simply let the Duchess stare at her curiously. She was used to people staring at her in that way by now, as if she were nothing more than an object to be observed.

Margaret of Anjou had done it.
Edward of Lancaster had done it.
The Lancastrian court had done it.

By now Anne was throughly submitted to her fate, though after Tewksbury was more fearful of life than ever, wanted to shy away from all light and all that was living. She wanted to run as the Duchess of Gloucester approached her and lay a gentle hand on her arm for surely this presentation of kindness was an act?

Her father had killed Earl Rivers and his son! Had put Jacquetta Woodville, on trial for witchcraft! Had driven the Duchess's sister, her nieces and nephews and herself into sanctuary for half a year! 'There is no possibility that she feels anything then hatred' she concluded, wondering why the Duchess chose to put on a front of nicety even though they were alone.

Little did Anne know all Eleanor wanted to do was help her. It was true, she had no real affection for her, did not know her in the slightest but could see a vulnerable young girl whose family had been torn apart and needed protecting.

Unfortunately one of those she needed protecting from was the Queen.

Elizabeth would not be forgiving, Eleanor knew, for while she could see it was no fault of Anne's that Warwick had risen up, she knew her sister would blame the young widow just as she had blamed Warwick, if not more since she was still living and he was not.

"Lady Anne" she began gently, making herself smile a little in an effort to ease the inevitable tension between them "I know what an overwhelming time this must be for you....but I want you to know that I am not here to harm you, I am here to help you"

Clear surprise registered on Anne's face and Eleanor laughed lightly, perching on the edge of the large bed that lay tucked in one of the dark corners of the room and patting the coverlet beside her.

"Help me?" Anne asked at last, sitting down and kneading her hands in her lap as the Duchess nodded.
"Yes, I want to help you" she replied softly "you are to be in my care until we reach London and then will most likely go to your sister...."

"Issy?" Anne interrupted, her expression suddenly hopeful as she heard her sister mentioned before it faded back into doubt.
"Indeed. You will be put into her guardianship and she will care for you....but I do want you to know that I shall be looking out for you....if ever you need me...."

"Am I not a traitor?" The girl asked cautiously, trying to detect any lies that may pass the older woman's lips. Perhaps she had been sent here to attempt to gain a confession of treason for the King?

"I'm sure that you only did what you were told" Eleanor returned reassuringly "Richard thinks so too and it is most likely that the King does.... Lady Anne you are no Margaret of Anjou" Anne looked down a little, a guilty expression sweeping over her face "Lady Anne?"

She glanced up at the Duchess, her suspicion of her clear yet she decided to speak, testing her trust for the first time in over a year.
"When we landed here....I could have gone to my mother" she admitted "I had a choice, your grace, and I chose to stay with the Bad Queen"

"You chose to fight on" Eleanor corrected with a nod "as true warriors do!"
"I am no warrior" Anne murmured, a small smile tilting up the corners of her chapped lips "b-but you are....you were on a battlefield yesterday....in fact" she frowned in thought as a realisation dawned upon her "you rode into the hands of the Bad Queen.... seemingly only to save me....your enemy"

The Duchess nodded and slowly placed an arm around Anne's shoulders, smiling down at her.
"From the beginning of this campaign one of my aims was to save you, Lady Anne. You have naught to fear from me. I want to only protect you now you are away from Lancaster. I do not blame you for your father's actions and you have never given me cause to dislike you in the slightest. My husband cares for you and so do I, in a way, perhaps we could be friends someday?"

A small gasp escaped Anne before she truly smiled, her heart leaping at this new revelation, this acceptance from what had been the enemy. Still, she made herself become calm almost at once, silently reminding herself that she was not to give trust easily to a Woodville, no matter how much like a saviour they appeared.

"Perhaps we could be" she said quietly.